


The Princess and The Gardener

by xmasmurdereve



Category: The J
Genre: F/F, fairytale AU, general castle-related shenanigans used for gayness, medieval inaccuracies I couldn't care less about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-09-26 10:52:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17140448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xmasmurdereve/pseuds/xmasmurdereve
Summary: Harper is a young gardener who is sent with the rest of her guild to work on the gardens of a secluded summer castle belonging to the royal Hastor family, with the Hastor princess being as much of a mystery as the castle's location; however, it soon becomes clear that a very special friendship is about to bloom.





	1. Preface

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The coolest cat in the universe](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=The+coolest+cat+in+the+universe).



The princess had never been one for smiling; but even so, her servants had never seen her like this.

She kept her eyes low, and her shoulders slouched; the biggest reactions they got from her were nods and shrugs. She showed no more interest in reading; her voice hadn’t been heard in days; she barely left her chambers. Joy itself seemed to have been sucked out of the castle, as if its severely isolated location wasn’t enough. The princess was the only one who could bring life to such a place; and as she suffered, they all did.

They could only imagine what she was going through. It was a tragedy, really. She’d never been separated from her brothers like that before. 

The whole kingdom knew how close the Hastor children were, especially after the sudden death of the king and queen - an event that launched every knight and villager into mourning, for they truly believed their former rulers to be just, and felt for the offspring they’d left behind. Their eldest fulfilled his role just fine, and really seemed like the best option to take over the Hastor throne, but it didn’t diminish their shared grief.

The strength of the royal family’s bond went undoubted, unrivaled. It was clear even to the most clueless of outsiders that the three siblings thrived best as a group. Such was the extent of the kingdom’s understanding, for no one dared to speculate any further. Still, there were rumors - the king had yet to find a wife, or bring any heirs of his own; the same could be said about his brother. It went unquestioned at first, but as the years passed, the two seemed strangely unaffected by any sense of urgency.

The only hope of securing the bloodline lied with the young princess, which is why no one opposed the new king’s decision to send her away once the kingdom was at war - not exactly for the expectation that she’d ever marry, but because she was an incredibly prominent target to the land’s enemies. 

If there was ever a chance of keeping her safe, it lied within the family’s summer palace - a fortress way beyond the mountains, surrounded by woods. Its existence barely known; its location, even less so.

That’s where they’d sent her, along with a handful of the house’s most loyal servants, many of which had seen the princess grow up, and loved her as their own. They’d been entrusted with her safety, just as the king was doing the same for its people.

At first, it seemed like the perfect plan. Now, however, it became clear that the real enemy came not in the form of enemy troops and outside ambushes, but instead from within: the secluded location meant that the princess would never be troubled by attackers, but the desolation in her heart caused her more harm than any assassin ever could.

As the days went by, she became more and more reclusive. She’d spend her days staring through the window in her bedroom, eyes empty and longing, no signs of life other than the occasional sigh. She also refused to eat, which only worsened her condition - she’d always been plagued by some sort of recurring illness, but by now it fully debilitated her. 

“There must be something we can do”, the servants asked. “Something we can say, or bring, or make”, they cried, begging for a response. “There must be a wish we can grant!”

And after weeks of desperation, the princess finally broke her own silence with a quiet, weakened request:

“I wish for a garden.”


	2. Chapter 2

“You are not to speak to the princess, or engage with her in any way, shape, or form”, said the servant, walking the new staff through the clearing that surrounded the castle. “You are only to address her if she addresses you first - and even so, you must keep your interactions to a minimum, and be as brief as possible.”

Harper was only half-listening. She’d never seen a fortress that big before; and she’d bet the same went for the rest of the gardeners, despite her being the youngest of the bunch. They’d seen great houses, and completed work for very important members of the court, but this was their first contact with actual royalty of such high regard - which, in the end, worked to their advantage, for it seemed that they’d been hired precisely because of their lack of connections.

The servant was still rambling about staying away from the Hastor heiress, but the girl felt like she’d already gotten the point. Her plan had never been to get herself into trouble. In fact, she was glad she could stay out of it for once, seeing how the rest of the kingdom now lived under the constant threat of invasions, thanks to the ongoing war. Here, as if the distance from that turmoil wasn’t enough of a selling point, they would be given food and lodgings until their work was done, which was the most secure life situation the girl had ever found herself in - and she did not intend to be banned from it.

It came with a price, however: the land was in terrible shape. It seemed as though no one had lived in that castle for years until now, and the surrounding landscape had been severely neglected. If one squinted hard enough and put their imagination to good use, they might be able to catch a glimpse of what the castle gardens were once supposed to be, but now all that was left resulted in an untended disaster. Patches of grass grew unevenly, sometimes springing tall enough to cover someone up to their waist; previously planted bushes, once trimmed into nice shapes, now formed a mess of tangled branches spiraling way out of bounds; trees had fallen over, and were now fully covered in moss; nearly every step taken resulted in the snapping of twigs that had never even dreamed of being picked up; not even wildflowers stood a chance of showing their colors among the chaotic green.

In any case, there wasn’t time to complain. They’d been told repeatedly this was an urgent case, and that they needed to complete their work as skillfully as possible, so they got right to it. It was the most ambitious project the girl had ever been a part of, and she’d even been trusted with her own patch of land to work on! 

Granted, it was also one of the worst bits - even in its prime, she doubted it’d seen much care from the previous servants. It stood in an awkward corner near the back of the fortress, in a place that was unlikely to be seen or visited, so it was only logical it’d be given no real importance. However, it was her spot, the first one she’d ever had - and it would also be her last, if she didn’t prove herself to be worthy of handling such a task. 

Simply removing the overgrown grass took a full day’s work; but in doing so, the girl revealed the original trail of gravel that lied beneath it, part of the design this garden once had. The old bushes had spread their branches so wildly they now formed one giant mass, and some of them were overrun with parasites; but after a week of her working on them, they began to look presentable once more.

The gardeners had brought their own sprouts and seeds with them, but Harper still had to arrange the flowerbeds - which she did, as best as she could. She felt that her patch could use a tree or two, but she had no strength to move them there, so she resorted to simply planting some saplings she found, knowing they’d reach their potential in a few years.

She ventured into the nearby woods, following the trails up to a friendly creek, where she picked up as many pebbles as she could to line her paths with - always making sure she was still keeping with the core aesthetics of the rest of the surrounding garden patches. It was hard work, but she was proud of it. She’d never made anything quite like it before.

As she carried out her functions, however, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that she was being watched.

Very few windows of the castle provided a view of where she stood, but there was one on the third floor that seemed to face it directly - and there it would stand a shadowy figure, staring at the gardener throughout the days.

She’d only catch glimpses of whoever lied beyond the glass; they’d hide behind the wall as soon as she turned to face them, pulling over the curtains. Still, she could somehow always tell they were watching.

It made her more curious than bothered; she wondered if they liked the work she’d been doing, if she’d managed to impress them somehow. Maybe they’d chosen to watch her because she was their favorite, as if she was better than the rest - or maybe it was because she was much worse, and really they were laughing at her every time they saw her through the window. Either way, she’d caught their interest, just as they’d caught hers.

Sometimes, it even felt as if she was working for them - like she somehow dedicated herself more to her craft because she knew someone would watch it, would like it. 

It was more interest than she’d ever managed to generate before.


	3. Chapter 3

The princess visited daily. She’d been warned that her garden was not finished, but she found it irrelevant - it was hers, and she still wanted to see it. The workers were instructed to leave the clearing whenever the young Hastor went on her afternoon strolls, even if it did delay their work.

At first, the girl simply wandered aimlessly through unfinished dirt paths, running her fingers through the unkempt bushes, staring at piles of dirt that would soon be organized into proper flowerbeds. As the days passed, however, the land began to look more and more like an actual garden, and the princess’ spirits were immediately lifted whenever she stepped outside. Her eyes grew more vivid, her steps became more certain - and, soon enough, she began to smile again.

Harper watched from afar. The gardeners retired to their sheds as soon as the princess’ visit was announced, but she still peeked through the cracks in the doorframe, watching the girl stroll through the unfinished greenery. 

She’d heard tales of the princess. Harper knew her to be a recluse, as all royalty tends to be, in one way or another; she was awfully close to her brothers, which the girl knew she’d never understand, being an only child herself. The princess was known to be kind and graceful, but the same could be said about many others. It seemed as though the peasants knew all there was to know about the young regent, while at the same time knowing nothing at all.

The warnings given by the rest of the servants echoed faintly in the gardener’s mind. She knew that she’d be terminated if she was ever seen approaching the princess, but there could be no harm in taking a closer look - as long as she was never caught.

She hid behind the trees in the nearby forest, trying to get a better view of the girl. Harper watched as the other walked around, seeming to admire a work that had nothing to be admired yet; she started sneaking around the bushes, getting as close as she could without it being too dangerous - although, she admitted, being anywhere but the shed at that point was madness.

Still, she couldn’t help it. The tales did the girl no justice: the princess was twice as graceful as any words could describe, and her beauty was unmatched; her deep black hair cascaded through the back of her shoulders, as rich as the foliage surrounding her; her skin was as pale as the cloudy winter skies, but blushed with as much life as the richest of summers; her movements were careful and delicate, but carried a hidden eagerness, as if she were a fawn who’d stumbled across that place while exploring the forest for the first time. The gardener watched in awe, almost lost in a trance, becoming so paralyzed she often forgot to breathe.

The princess’ charm already felt absolutely overwhelming, but it somehow grew even further whenever she smiled. The first time the gardener saw it happening, she couldn’t help but gasp, and then swiftly cover her mouth in fear of giving away her position. It should’ve served as a sign for her to stay away, but it only brought her closer - the hidden distance she kept between them decreased with every stroll.

It became the highlight of her day. That sight was as fulfilling to the gardener as work itself - putting a smile on the princess’ face felt like a purpose more noble than could be found in any other profession. She knew they were doing something good.

The gardener’s habits grew more reckless. Now she’d follow the princess just a few meters back, jumping from bush to bush, hiding among the foliage, tracing back her steps - and, in doing so, she saw herself standing by her own patch of land, the garden she’d been tasked to create. She hadn’t realized it at first, but the princess’ strolls always seemed to lead her there, and she’d spend much longer in that area than in any other.

Harper wondered if it was just a coincidence, and tried to take a step closer - not seeing the fallen branch beneath her feet, snapping it in half.

“Who’s there?”, asked the princess, turning herself around. Harper held her breath. “Show yourself, or I’ll call for my guards!”

“Forgive me, your highness!” The gardener jumped out of her hiding spot, kneeling beside the princess, heart pounding in her chest.

There was silence, freezing and terrifying. Harper wondered how much time she had left until her head was chopped off her body. She dared not move, not even blink - she stared at the ground as if her life depended on it.

“Did you do all this?”, inquired the princess. The gardener found no voice to answer. “Did you build this garden?”

“J-just this area, your highness”, stammered the girl. “From the edge of the main cobblestone path at the back of your castle, to the oak tree by the end of the field, on your right.”, she continued, still keeping her head low. 

“It’s remarkable”, commented the princess, in her calm, whispering tone. The gardener felt her blood color her entire face. “I’ve seen how tirelessly you worked on this.”

“You’ve seen me work?!”, the girl looked up, but quickly lowered back her head in shame. “I mean- I am glad to be of service, your highness.”

“I’ve watched you through my window”, said the princess. “It has a great view of this patch. See?”, she pointed with her head, and the gardener looked up, following the other’s line of sight to the window on the third floor. “It’s been amazing to see you transform it”.

“I’m…” The gardener began to speak, but her mind had trailed off. She thought of the figure that watched her, and how she was standing right beside it - and how she never imagined she’d come face to face with royalty like that, let alone be praised by it. Still, all of that paled in comparison to how the princess looked even more graceful up close. She lowered her head again, clumsily. “I’m thankful that you are so pleased with my work, your highness.”

“Joan”, said the princess.

“Excuse me?” The gardener lifted her head again, staring shyly into the other girl’s eyes.

“You may simply call me Joan”, she explained, blinking softly. “No need for the formalities.”

“Of course. Forgive me, your highness-“ the gardener looked down again, shaking her head slightly. “Your- My princess. Princess Joan.”

“You can stand up, if you’d like”, smiled the princess. The gardener took it as an order, and apologized once more, getting back on her two feet - and she was surprised to find that the princess was a whole palm shorter than her. “What is your name?”, asked the other.

“Harper, my princess.” She couldn’t help but bow. It felt rude not to do so - or to be taller than royalty.

“Harper”, repeated the princess. “A crafter’s name”. The gardener blushed, still maintaining her courtesy. “How did you find your way to this castle?”

“I come from the village”, started the girl. “This gardening guild took me in a few years ago, as a favor to my parents. I’ve been with them since. This is the first time they’ve given me the opportunity to take on my own project”, she smiled, but stopped herself from rambling on any further. “I am happy to know you’ve been pleased with our services.”

“Oh, but I truly am!”, declared the princess. “They should’ve trusted you sooner; you are very talented”, she said, her voice full of warmth.

“Th-thank you, your highness.” The gardener undid her bow, only to perform another. 

“There’s no need for that.” The princess placed her hand under Harper’s chin, lifting the girl’s head, straightening up her posture. “Say, how much longer do you think it’ll take until these gardens are finished?”

“Forgive me, I’m not quite sure”, replied the girl, shifting her eyes to the side. “I wish I could say a week or two, but I wouldn’t be surprised if we needed more time. It’s been a challenging process… Not that we’re complaining!” She jumped back. “We truly appreciate the opportunity you’ve given us, and we thank you for your kindness-“

“It’s alright”, said the girl, gently lifting her hand as a signal for the other to stop. “Take as much time as you need.” 

“Thank you, your highness”, said Harper, looking into the princess’ eyes.

“I’m afraid I must go back”, said Joan, once more turning her head towards the castle with a short sigh. “Will I have the chance to see you again?”

“If you wish so, your highness!”, answered the gardener, a little louder than she’d planned to. 

The princess simply smiled in return, shooting the girl a friendly stare. She nodded shortly, and made her way back into the fortress.

Harper ran back to the shacks as fast as she could.


	4. Chapter 4

After that encounter, Harper never broke the rules again.

She understood she’d gotten lucky, and that anyone else would’ve ended up dead in a matter of seconds if they’d been caught in her position. She couldn’t afford to take a risk like that a second time.

She didn’t tell anyone about what happened, and prayed they’d never find out. When the princess went out for her daily strolls, the gardener was the first one to rush back to her lodgings. She wouldn’t dare look at the castle window while she worked, pretending no one would be there to watch her - even though she could feel she was being stared at.

However, if she let her thoughts wander off for even half a second, she’d find herself reliving that moment, staring back into the princess’ caring eyes, blushing as she learned the other’s name. She’d shake her head violently whenever she caught herself thinking about it, and focus twice as hard on her work - until the next moment of distraction.

She had no idea how the princess was doing, and if anyone asked, she’d say she didn’t want to know. She figured everything would return to normal soon enough - in a few weeks, her work would be done, and she’d go back to town with the rest of the gardeners. Even the threats of war didn’t seem as scary as staying in that region, watched by the same cherishing stare that pierced her from the castle windows.

After a while, though, the staff was given new instructions: they were now to stay within the garden premises whenever the princess went out; no longer were they supposed to interrupt their work. Orders from the Hastor ruler herself, they’d been told.

The young gardener was terrified. On the first day, she hid back in the sheds; but she was later scolded for avoiding her tasks as the others carried on with their functions. On the second day, she ran into the woods, under the excuse of seeking materials for her decorations. On the third day, however, she was caught by surprise, as the princess came out of her castle much earlier than usual.

The young ruler asked the gardener where she’d been, but the girl could only bow apologetically in response, blurting out vague explanations for her absence. The princess was just as kind as on their first meeting, praising the worker for her progress, telling her how much better the clearing has looked ever since the arrival of the new staff. Harper merely blushed, keeping her head low as she carried on with her tasks, her thoughts running wild with how inappropriate it would be to engage in conversation - despite desperately wanting to.

The princess seemed content with merely watching the other work - on that day, and all following ones. She’d sometimes sit by the gardener’s side, inquiring about a specific type of flower, or a planting technique. “Do you always leave the violets so far apart?”; “How long will these bushes take to blossom?”; “What is the biggest garden you have ever worked on?”

The young worker focused on her own hands, digging through the earth, rearranging the foliage. “Yes, your highness.” She sometimes went over the same area multiple times, focusing on details so minimal they wouldn’t make a difference to the naked eye. “Not until spring, your highness.” She bowed with her head at every question and response, trying her best to keep from stammering. “I’m afraid yours is the biggest, your highness.” If her focus slipped away for even a moment, her eyes would shift towards the princess’, and Harper couldn’t take that chance.

It felt terribly unnatural, but the gardener knew it was necessary. She’d already taken too big a risk, and continued to take it every time she answered the princess, even at the threat of coming off as rude. The effort she made to hold herself from rambling on with her answers took more out of her than any sort of manual labor ever had.

“You are free to talk, you know”, said the princess one day, sitting next to her in the newly-growing grass. Harper couldn’t help but worry about her staining her dress with all that dirt; it felt so undignified to make her sink down to such a level.

“I’ve been instructed not to, your highness”, replied Harper, trying to contain the sentiment in her voice.

“No one’s authority in this fortress ranks higher than mine”, said the young ruler, “and I say you can talk to me as much as you wish.” Her tone was clear, but kind. It wasn’t an order; it was almost a request, a favor being asked. Harper smiled, but quickly stopped herself, shaking her head.

“I don’t think it would be fair to the others, your highness”, she said, still looking down, rummaging aimlessly through the soil as if she had any other goal than pretending to be busy. Anything to stop her from looking up.

“They are free to talk as well, if they wish to”, said the princess, “but I’d still rather talk to you.”

The gardener’s head moved without her consent, and suddenly the girls’ eyes had met again. The princess smiled, a force as powerful as a raging summer storm, taking over the worker’s heart just as nature had reclaimed the castle’s clearing, creating chaos that no gardener could tame.

Harper smiled back.


	5. Chapter 5

Now that the worker had the freedom to answer, there was no end to the princess’ questions. She went over every plant, every skill, every detail involved in the creation of her garden - and Harper was happy to reply.

She carried on with the answers, objectively at first, but steering more and more into personal territory as her words flowed. Soon, she was sharing anecdotes, hard-earned lessons, past mistakes, future hopes. Each flower held the story of a thousand others, and the princess listened to all of them with unmatched eager curiosity, knees on the ground, elbows on her legs, leaning forward with head resting on her hands.

“And I’ve been told they make stuffing much more softer than feathers, even! I could see why she’d want it planted around her estate. She called it a silk floss tree, but at first I thought it was cotton. Have you ever seen one? I hadn’t either. We had to bring it from the other side of the world! But it was worth it. the stuffing is just as soft as they said, and when it blooms it covers all of its branches with the most amazing pink flowers…”

She carried on, and the princess listened; blinking slowly, her lips curled into the softest of grins, almost lost in a trance. The worker glanced over several times, half to make sure she hadn’t fallen asleep, and half because it felt inevitable at that point.

The staff’s work progressed, and the clearing looked more stunning with each passing day. The gardener admired it proudly, not only at her own patch of land but at the area as a whole, thinking it was the guild’s finest work so far.

However, the prettier the garden looked, the sadder the princess became.

The change was subtle at first, but it soon reached a point where it could no longer go unnoticed - be it in the ruler’s vacant stare, or her hidden sighs; not even the gardener’s stories seemed to lift her spirits anymore.

“Dear princess, what’s wrong?”, asked the worker, kneeling beside her ruler, barely holding herself back from embracing her.

The princess hesitated, but eventually spoke up. “I see the fine work you’ve been doing, and I can’t help but think it’s all in vain”, she lamented. “The nights grow colder, and days grow shorter - winter will start soon, and this clearing will look as grey as the rocks that form the walls of my castle” There was such heaviness to her voice, as if it carried sorrows that no tears could express. “I will be surrounded by nothing but desolation.”

Although her heart was heavy from seeing her friend so glum, the gardener smiled. “But that’s no issue at all!”, exclaimed the worker. “There are so many plants that can thrive even during the harshest of winters! Primroses, pansies, camellias…” She waved her hand, as if it could make the flowers appear on a whim. “As soon as we plant them, your garden will bloom with so much life it’ll make spring itself jealous!” she grinned, staring into the princess’ eyes. 

The young ruler smiled back.

As soon as word was given to the rest of the gardening staff, they started reshaping their projects. Flowerbeds were rearranged, saplings were moved, seeds were planted, everything was tended to; it was arduous work, but they were happy to do it - if only it meant the princess was pleased.

And surely enough, she started smiling again.

She still went out for her evening strolls, always stopping by Harper’s patch for the majority of it, sitting by the grass as she listened to the gardener. 

“There was a count once who had a request similar to yours”, she’d go on. “It was a few years ago, shortly after I’d joined the guild; it’s funny, I also thought everything would die off in the winter - which is silly, because I’d had my share of walks through the woods when I was younger, and there was always at least *some* sort of life to be found, you just had to know where to look for it. So they had to teach me all about winter gardens-“ and she continued, naming the first flowers she’d ever planted, the sights she’d seen, the places she’d worked at. 

The princess listened, and nodded, and laughed - a sight so blessed it made Harper forget about the increasing cold, as if the Sun in fact resided within the ruler’s smile.

However, the more their work advanced, the more that light began to fade again.

Days lasted merely a fraction of what they used to; the earth was stiffer, the air grew sharper, and the gardener often had to stop what she was doing and blow into her own hands, trying to make them less numb from the cold. Finishing the garden felt like a race against time - but the workers seemed to be winning, as their project came closer and closer to completion.

She figured it would come as good news to the princess, but winter seemed to have made itself a home within the ruler’s heart, making her colder and darker with each passing day.

“Dear princess, what troubles you?” the gardener sat beside her, shoving her own hands into her lap, both as a means to keep them warm and to stop herself from holding on to the ruler’s.

“You have worked so hard to gratify me, even at my most unreasonable requests”, said the princess, her voice as heavy as hail, “but I’m afraid it has all been in vain. Once winter hits, most of your garden will die, and it will stay dead even with the return of spring.” She stared at the rest of the clearing, her gaze so distant it was as if it tried to take in the whole world at once. “You have created such beautiful sights for me to enjoy during the cold, but I fear we will never be able to restore this land to its former glory once the snow melts away.”

The gardener blinked, realizing she’d forgotten for an instant about the concept of spring - they’d been so focused on making the garden presentable for the winter months; and even if the snow did melt, she figured whatever the warmer months could bring would pale in comparison to the joy she’d felt in having the princess follow her work.

Still, she smiled, straightening her back, and used her most confident voice to say “We will tend to this garden, be it in the cold or in the sun. As the snow falls, we will clear it, and when the ice melts, we will rebuild what was lost. Nature is built on cycles like this, after all! Your garden won’t perish - at least, not on our watch.”

The princess turned to the gardener, her eyes carrying all the glow and warmth the heavy winter clouds stopped the sky from showing. “Do you promise?”, she asked. “Do you promise it doesn’t end like this?”

“I promise”, said the gardener, holding on to her own hands, wishing they were the ruler’s.


	6. Chapter 6

As the cold season advanced, the guild stayed, and worked just as hard as before. They’d put too much effort into that garden to do otherwise; and couldn’t bear to let it perish along with whatever light still thrived within the princess’ heart. Harper thought of her promise every morning, as she cleared the snow from the gravel paths and made sure the winter flowers were being properly cared for.

She’d stand by her patch of land, staring at the window on the castle’s corner, thinking back to when the owner of that fortress was merely silhouette behind the curtains and a tale of her supposed beauty - and she couldn’t help but smile upon remembering her first actual encounter with the ruler, or all the other times they’d spent together during the completion of the guild’s project.

The Hastor’s afternoon strolls became shorter, just as the days themselves got more brief; still, she never missed a date. She could no longer sit on the grass, as the snow would freeze her legs and ruin her dress, so she stood by Harper’s patch, hiding her hands and the rest of her arms crossed under a heavy woolen cloak.

The gardener worked, to the best of her ability; it was hard to fully ignore the cold at times. She still answered the princess’ questions, diving further and further into her own personal stories, always finding more to tell even after she figured she’d revealed them all - not noticing that the young ruler stood closer and closer with each tale, leaning in with her whole body instead of just her head, as she did during the previous months.

It got to a point in which the girls were standing side by side, a mere step separating them - a distance which the gardener was the first to breach, without even noticing, by placing her hand over the princess’ arm as she was caught up in her own narrative. She quickly retrieved it, simply because the moment had passed, but the memory and weight of it came to haunt her later as she tried to sleep.

What was she thinking?! How could she have done something like that, so sporadically?

Why had it felt so natural?

On the following day, the girls stood again at a similar distance, but this time the princess didn’t wait for the gardener’s lead: instead, she leaned over, taking the worker by her arm, locking it with her own. Harper stammered, blushing as she looked down to where their bodies intertwined, feeling her face heat up - but still failing to become as warm as the princess’ touch. She shook her head briefly, stuck between a natural gesture and a calculated bow, and continued her story as cohesively as she could.

The princess did not let go until the end of her stroll.

The situation only seemed to escalate from then. The young ruler always reached out for the gardener’s arm, who started to anticipate her friend’s moves and offer it as the other approached. The princess guided the worker along the snowy paths, ignoring any tasks that needed to be completed, and asked to hear more about the gardener’s amazing tales - which the worker was happy to bring.

They held each other closer with each passing stroll.

The young ruler placed her cloak over both their shoulders, leaning on the gardener’s arm. Harper couldn’t help but smile; a nervous, flustered giggle that colored her face red every time, warmth that could outlast any snowfall, light that could shine through even the darkest of nights.

However, as the weeks progressed, she could feel the ruler still carried a terrible weight in her heart; a freezing, festering worry, which Harper wished with all her might she could simply hug away, as she’d think to herself whenever she brought the young Hastor closer.

“Please, my princess, tell me what’s wrong!”, begged the gardener, placing her hand over the ruler’s, looking into her eyes.

However, the princess could not return such a stare; she turned her face away, looking down, and for a moment appeared to be on the verge of tears. She tightened her grip around the gardener’s arm, just as an invisible force seemed to crush her own throat, turning her voice into a barely audible whisper as she said:

“I miss my brothers.”

Harper smiled, even though she too felt her heart hurt with the princess’ pain, simply from seeing her friend so troubled. “Would you mind telling me about them?”, she asked. “I understand if it’s too difficult, but maybe it could help.”

The princess sighed heavily, her grip loosening a little. She leaned on the gardener’s shoulder, her eyes staring vacantly ahead, and her curved lips formed the suggestion of a grin - aching, yearning, but somehow relieved that they have someone to listen to the burdens they’d been hiding so far.

She told Harper about they’d grown up together - herself; Dale, the new king; Isadore, the next in line. She spoke of the tragedy of her parent’s passing, and how the Hastor children were only able to make it through because they stuck together. She talked about their quiet dinners, the room filled with a type of love that went beyond words; how sometimes they’d gather around the fireplace to read, or how they’d stare at the rain pouring down the castle windows, knowing they were safe and sheltered for as long as they had each other.

Harper simply listened and nodded; she could only imagine what it meant to miss someone like that. She was an only child herself, and had never forged any bonds that seemed lasting enough to cause such a reaction. Even so, she could see where her friend was coming from, and tried her best to understand.

The princess went on about how they used to come to this summer palace back when their parents were still among the living, and how it felt so isolated from the outside world, how she could allow herself to forget about her responsibilities as royalty. When asked if that’s why she wanted her garden restored, the princess confirmed with a nod, confessing that it was the only part she actually remembered from those trips. Fixing her clearing was her last attempt at recovering the sense of peace and belonging that came with those memories.

They’d stopped coming by over the years, she revealed, even because they couldn’t give themselves such luxuries anymore, especially with Dale taking over the throne at such a young age - still, whenever she was with her brothers, she felt a great sense of relief; as if she could be herself, and be loved as such, without having to conform to any sort of royal destiny.

“I was sent here because of it”, she sighed. “The biggest threat to my life was my own existence - even my brothers couldn’t help me. They had to send me away, just to keep me safe.” She paused, burying her face deeper into Harper’s shoulder. “Except the distance hurts more than whatever the threats I’m protected from could possibly cause.”

The gardener took the princess into her arms, holding the young ruler’s head against her own chest, the cloak around them further wrapping them into one solid embrace, a self-contained universe. “I’m sorry to hear that”, the worker said, even though her heart carried a thousand other words; words of caring, and of hope, and of love; a wish to listen to all of the princess’ tales, and to share even more of them, and to live through new ones together; the undying will to eliminate all suffering from her friend’s heart, and to move Heaven and Earth to make it happen. 

Harper held Joan as tightly as she possibly could.


	7. Chapter 7

Throughout winter, despite everything, the garden bloomed.

Once spring arrived, it bloomed even harder.

Most of the groundwork had already been set through the guild’s efforts, as the project was practically finished before they’d made the changes for the colder season, and it was only a matter of time until nature allowed the plants to reach their full potential. Every stone was in place, every blade of grass was trimmed to size, every flower was watered to perfection.

The gardeners mostly did maintenance work at that point - not that there was a lot to be done. The land was good, and the plants were thriving. Everything fit into place.

Harper took it all in with a deep breath and a smile, looking over the patch she’d so diligently worked on; a statement of her potential, an expectation for further successes. 

However, as perfect as it’d turned out, the garden planted its own seed of worry inside the young worker’s chest. It ached with every heartbeat, and only seemed to grow, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. 

Was the garden enough? Would her princess become sad again?

She thought about those questions constantly, even though she tried her best not to. The garden’s impeccable shape only made it worse, seeing how, on past occasions, the better the clearing looked, the more the ruler seemed to fall into despair. What would happen next?

Her incessant wondering was cut short once she saw the Hastor princess rushing through the path leading from her fortress, her black hair bouncing with each hurried step, her cheeks flushed in a shade of red that could outmatch any flower in the land. She was smiling, widely, lively, unprecedentedly - Harper questioned whether this was a dream.

She barely had time to wonder further, as the princess grabbed her hand.

“Take me to the woods!”, she pleaded.

“The woods?”, asked Harper, frozen in confusion. Why leave the clearing now that the guild’s work was finished? Wasn’t that the whole point?

“Please”, she tightened the grip on Harper’s fingers. “You must know them so well, and I’ve never been outside the castle grounds!”

“Won’t your guards mind, my princess?”

“I told them to follow from a distance”, declared the ruler. “They will stay out of our way.”

Harper hesitated. The princess was still smiling, but her eyes carried a sort of hidden desperation, like a trapped animal scanning for a way out of its cage. She stood with her back arched forward, almost bowing, holding on to the worker’s hand as if she begged for mercy. 

“I suppose that could be done”, said the gardener. “I’ve become familiar with these woods as we worked on your land, I could take you through some of the paths I know… If that is what you wish for”, she concluded, leaning in with a courtesy, placing her head lower than the princess’. 

“That would be perfect”, replied the ruler, her voice as gentle as the summer breeze, but with all the weight of a hurricane. “Thank you so much for your kindness.”

“No need to thank me!”, grinned the worker, taking her friend by the arm, just as when it was cold. 

Harper had to admit she’d never gone too deep into the woods, but whatever she seemed to know of it was already way more than the princess had ever seen. Several paths had already been marked by the other members of the guild, who often ventured into the forest to search for extra material - saplings to be moved, local flowers and foliage, wood to make structures, stones to make pathways. The dirt had been so packed with these regular explorations that walking through it felt no different than strolling through the fortress’ clearing.

Harper pointed at the different trees, naming as many as she could, going over a personal anecdote or two whenever the occasion was fit - the time she tried to climb an aspen, the afternoon she’d spent picking acorns as a child, the fallen bird nest she once returned to a high branch. The princess listened, as always, but laughed much louder, nodded much harder. Her eyes were still desperate, and her grip was cold and tense. 

Once they were done with the paths, Harper proposed they turned back.

“Oh, please don’t!”, asked the ruler. “I feel as if I’ll never see enough of this place!”

The gardener ventured a little deeper, steering away from the previously marked territory. These were places she’d visited just for fun, as she’d sometimes take a couple of breaks from work. An oak that seemed to have been struck by lightning a long time ago; a hollowed out log where a family of squirrels seemed to live; a circle of mushrooms on the ground she didn’t have the courage to step inside.

The princess followed, and marveled, and stared with fervorous excitement. She had no problem with walking through the woods, even as the paths became more uncertain, hopping over roots, advancing through the bushes. Harper was surprised - and sometimes even had trouble keeping up.

Once again, the worker suggested returning to the castle. 

“Please,” begged the princess, playing with her own hands, “there must be one last place you can show me. Just one more, before it gets dark!” 

Harper wavered, but caved in. Following a track over the boulders, down the hill, lied a glistening creek, whose pebbles were perfect for decorating flowerbeds. The ruler was delighted, smiling even wider, hopping down the path, rushing to the very edge of the water and immediately dipping her hands into the riverbed.

“It’s so cold!”, she giggled. “I thought the sun would’ve heated it up by now!”

“It’s not that cold!”, contested the gardener, leaning over to test the temperature for herself - when she received a splash to the face.

The princess laughed, and the gardener grinned back, flickering the water at her friend, who then stood up and started to run. Harper chased her, skipping over the same rocks and fallen branches the ruler had so skillfully avoided, wondering if the princess had always had that talent or if it was merely a consequence of the frenetic state she seemed to be in. Either way, Joan ran surprisingly fast.

They chased each other, following the stream, keeping to the edge of the water, trying not to fall over - though from the way their game was escalating, Harper could see herself being tackled into the creek anytime soon.

Joan laughed, and couldn’t stop laughing; she stammered, and coughed, and heaved, but never stopped. She kept on running, even as Harper called her name - playfully at first, but more worriedly by the minute. 

“We should head back!”, warned the gardener. The sun was starting to set.

“I cannot go back”. Joan’s breathing faltered; she seemed to slow down.

“The others must be worried”, tried the worker. “We shouldn’t be out in the dark!”

“I cannot go back!”, repeated the princess, halting and turning around to face her friend. “I cannot go back to that.”

“What are you talking about?”, asked Harper, stopping a bit behind.

“I cannot go back to the castle”, said the ruler, breathing heavily. “I cannot go back to the gardens, I cannot go back to my fortress, I cannot go back to my room-” She shook her head, closing her eyes, her voice full of grief. “I cannot go back to that world.”

“I don’t…” Harper struggled, taking a hesitant step forward. “I don’t understand, what is stopping you?”

Joan shook her head even harder, her vacant eyes unable to focus. “Nothing is stopping me.” She played with her hands, pinching her own fingers. “In fact, everything urges me to go back - not realizing it would destroy me, finish me for good!”

“Why would you say that?” Harper approached slowly, as she would with a terrified animal who could sprint back into the forest at the slightest scare. “Is something wrong?”

Joan shook her head again, more tensely this time. “Everything is perfect”, she said, her lips curling into a sickened grin, her voice growing shakier. “There’s nothing left to be done, everything is as it should be.”

“Then why are you sad?”, questioned the gardener, halting completely before asking, worried that she’d crossed a line with her words she was never supposed to approach, not wanting to make it worse with her presence.

Joan pressed her fingernails into her own arms, sighing heavily as she hugged herself. She was still smiling, although in such a twisted manner that it seemed cruel to call it such. “I cannot bear to be alone again”, she lamented, practically whispering.

“…Who says you’d be alone?” inquired Harper, hoping she sounded carefree enough to hide how much it hurt to see Joan like that - not only because the last thing she’d want was for the princess to suffer, but because the idea of leaving her friend behind felt so absurd in her heart that she felt almost attacked by the fact that the ruler saw it as a possibility.

“There’s no reason for you to stay, I-“ Joan choked, and bit her own finger. “I already forced you to stay much longer than necessary, I forced you to stay through winter, all over the pettiest of worries… Every concern I had, it was a front, a lie, I just- I simply couldn’t-“

Harper felt her chest shrivel in misery. You never forced me to stay, she wanted to say, but her thoughts were wiped out of existence as she saw Joan fall to her knees.

The gardener rushed to her friend’s encounter, hugging her tightly, and ached upon the terrible realization that the princess was shaking. “Please, let me take you back to the castle!”, she begged, her mind rushing through a thousand worst case scenarios as the sun set behind the trees, painting the sky a shade of red as flushed and as hot as the ruler’s feverish skin.

Joan nodded stiffly, holding on to Harper’s arm - a tense, trembling grip, which the gardener couldn’t help but feel like it was holding itself back; the same girl who leaned so tenderly against her shoulder throughout the cold and the snow, now wouldn’t allow her full weight to be supported by the hands of that very same companion. Even though the princess stood right next to her, she felt as distant as the next winter was to the current spring.

The servant staff took the sickened ruler in as soon as the girls stepped into the clearing, fiercely closing the castle doors.

Harper stood in the gardens, alone.


	8. Chapter 8

The gardener figured the rest of her guild would be told to leave now that their project had been completed, but no such orders were given. They simply kept to their tasks, maintaining the spotless nature of the garden, putting as much care into it as they had on their first day.

Brief updates were shared by the staff, simply stating that the princess wasn’t well at the moment, and that the workers were meant to carry on until that situation was resolved. As desperate as Harper was to know more, she wouldn’t dare to ask; it wasn’t her place to, anyway, and she feared the answers would only sadden her more.

She stood by her patch of land, staring at the window on the castle’s corner, wishing to once again see her friend outlined by the curtains - but that never happened. Still, she couldn’t help but hope; it was all she had left.

Spring turned to summer, and the worker despised whatever force was keeping her friend from getting better, as it stopped her from enjoying the flowers in their prime - and stopped the worker herself from enjoying the princess’ company.

It was a blunt, silent anger; a sort of sadness that consumed everything in its path, leaving a gaping void behind; a pulsating grief, clouding her thoughts, clogging up her heart, increasing with each passing day.

She understood it now, what it truly meant to miss someone.

As the warm season advanced, the princess got visitors.

The first caused quite a commotion, with everyone strongly awaiting their arrival, and the castle staff giving similar warnings to the gardener guild on how they were forbidden from interacting with the stranger; this time, however, Harper intended to actually respect them - after all, she had absolutely no intention of disrespecting the Hastor prince.

Much like with Joan, there were tales of his traits and looks: he was said to be the kindest of the three, and the easiest to interact with, even though he was just as big a recluse as his siblings. They spoke of his golden hair, his gleaming eyes that seemed to carry a deep, unknown sadness, or maybe it was simply shyness - honestly, the more they gossiped, the wilder the tales became. Harper didn’t know exactly where she stood; many of the tales felt exaggerated, but then again, the princess was just as beautiful as legend told.

Either way, she never got a chance to confirm such theories, since the prince never stepped foot outside of the castle. From what the other workers whispered, he stood by the princess’ bed at all times, keeping her company as she recovered.

The young gardener thought back to her winter conversations with the Hastor ruler, and how much Joan seemed to enjoy her brothers’ company; she couldn’t help but feel immensely glad that the princess finally got to be reunited with at least one of them - as she’d give the world herself to be reunited with her friend as well. She wondered if it was enough to lift the princess’ spirits, and finally allow her to regain enough of her energy to stroll outside again…

However, as summer turned to fall, Isadore left. His presence had apparently been requested back at the main Hastor fortress, or so the staff had said. Either way, it soon became clear that the princess wouldn’t be coming outside anytime soon.

Harper tended to her garden patch, raking the fallen leaves into piles, wondering if the princess would dare to jump on the heaps with her if challenged to do so; it didn’t quite seem like proper royalty etiquette, but the girl surely had it within her, seeing how excitedly she played through the woods on the day the gardener took her there… But those thoughts never went beyond conjecture, just as the princess never showed her face upon the window in the corner, let alone in the garden paths.

The days became shorter, and the garden bloomed once more with a different kind of grace - the winter flowers that had been planted during the previous cold season had another chance to shine. 

Still, the princess didn’t see them.

The staff was secretive about it, but it didn’t take much for one to realize the young ruler’s condition wasn’t improving as desired. Harper made a special effort to ignore whichever pessimistic gossip circulated among the guild’s members; she didn’t want to believe it, even if it was true. She kept to her patch, distancing herself from the rest as hard as she could, the aching in her heart growing stronger as the temperatures dropped. She crossed her hands under her arms, sheltering them from the cold, thinking back to when they were warmed by her friend’s hands, her cloak shielding them from the wind, their arms tangled up like vines.

And as the snow fell harder, the princess received a second visitor.

The staff was twice as anxious, with their warnings being ten times as stern - just as the workers’ curiosity grew along with their fear. After all, no one wanted to end up on the king’s bad side.

The gardener listened to the tales this time as well, treading somewhere between knowing exactly how much of it was blown out of proportion and the absolute lack of certainty as to what was real or not. Truth be told, everything she’d heard of Dale felt so close to Joan’s nature that the blood link between them could never be doubted - their distant expressions, the cold tone of voice, the reserved tendencies of their characters with absolutely no underlying shame of being so. It was rumored that the king had a healing touch; after thinking of how much better her life had been after knowing Joan, Harper couldn’t help but feel that the same could be said about the princess as well.

She still stood beneath the corner window, waiting for the day she’d see her friend watch by her once more - but it remained an empty wish, highlighted by an even emptier windowsill. 

At times, she wondered if it was best to just let go of such feelings; after all, her kind was never meant to stay with royalty. She questioned whether the princess would even remember her, if she ever came to regain her health; maybe the time they’d spent together was merely a distraction, a pastime she no longer had any use for, a service no longer required - and the gardener would be sent home with the rest of her guild, never to return.

However, this never felt like the right path. Every day they spent apart only made the worker miss the ruler more, and anticipate their reunion with an even brighter certainty that it would happen; a type of love that grew even when left unwatched, such as the vines and bushes at the old abandoned clearing - and just as with the overgrown garden, Harper knew it had potential to become something truly incredible.

Dale left along with the cold, again due to news just as urgent as the ones that had forced his brother to leave. Some had speculated that his visit was a bad sign: perhaps he wanted to see his sister one last time before her decaying health claimed her life for good, or maybe things in the battlefront were looking so hopeless this might be his last chance of talking to her before being defeated and killed.

However, as the garden blossomed once more under the gentle spring breeze, the staff were greeted with much more optimistic news:

The Hastor house had won the war.


	9. Chapter 9

Harper’s feelings on such facts were conflicted.

She was, of course, glad that they didn’t lose; it’s always good knowing one has a home to return to, and some degree of certainty that it would not be invaded or destroyed anytime soon. 

However, on the other hand, she figured nothing would feel like a real victory until the princess had recovered.

The idea that they might have to spend another year apart hurt so much she stopped looking at the castle window, knowing she’d burst into tears each time her friend’s silhouette was absent from the frame. She sheltered herself with uncertainty, afraid that reality would not be nearly as kind.

If she’d kept on looking, though, she’d see that she was being watched.

One day, as she tended to her patch, she heard footsteps approaching her from behind. 

When she turned around, she saw her; her princess, her ruler, her friend; her cheeks colored with the healthy blush of springtime blossoms, her eyes sparkling with the same glow that melted away the winter snow, her smile spreading wider than the forest surrounding the castle; her watcher, her light, her Joan.

They embraced, and they kissed, in a move that felt as natural and as inevitable as the changing of the seasons.


	10. Epilogue

Ironically enough, the Hastor summer palace was vacated in the summer. If the princess was to visit the fortress again in the future, it would be ready to accommodate her; but for now, there was no longer a need for her to be hidden there, since the war was over, and the royal siblings could finally be reunited for good - as they should be, the staff concluded.

They were thankful that this chapter in the kingdom’s history was over - sending the young princess away had been a strategically smart move on the king’s part, but no one could’ve foreseen the terrible consequences it would bring to her health. The staff had thought nothing could be worse than the apathetic state she seemed to be in before the clearing’s restoration, and was proven wrong by her bedbound year upon the garden’s completion.

The visits helped, but they were not enough. The Hastors worked best as a trio; that was a truth that never had any right to be questioned. Keeping them apart for so long had been a cruel trick of fate.

However, no one could deny something fantastic came out of it.

The worker guild was never truly dismissed, since the princess demanded they were kept as the house’s official gardeners; a request that no one in their right mind could oppose, seeing how the staff already thought of the work they did on the clearing as the second biggest reason why the young ruler had been able to overcome her initial depressed condition.

The main reason, of course, was the guild’s youngest gardener.

The two girls already spent a lot of their time together during the land’s refurbishment; now, they were seldom apart. The castle walls, once filled with loving silences and caring stares, now echoed with playful giggles, lively conversations, the hurried footsteps of a pair who couldn’t wait to experience the rest of their lives together.

Tales of that union reached beyond the limits of the kingdom, the story of a princess with skin as white as winter and eyes as dark as the night, falling for a gardener with hair like tangled vines and a spirit as chattery as a bird’s who could make the ruler’s heart bloom like a flowerbed in spring. Some doubted its accuracy, some said it was overblown; but anyone who’d seen the girls together even for a moment knew it to be true.

The gardener’s charm had no bounds - the staff had never seen anyone make the king smile like that aside from his siblings, and even the prince had no trouble talking to her, somehow free of his usual discomfort in interacting with strangers; but most importantly, they had never seen princess Joan’s eyes light up as bright, or her voice sound as clear, or her spirits lift up as much as when she was around Harper.

Once again, the staff was hit with the realization that this was another soul their ruler couldn’t live without.

And even centuries after it all happened, the ending to this tale never left the people’s memory:

The princess and the gardener lived happily ever after.


End file.
